


Checkups

by Wallwalker



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, F/M, Medical Kink, Solo Fantasies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-13
Updated: 2011-06-13
Packaged: 2017-10-20 09:49:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wallwalker/pseuds/Wallwalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Joker thinks he enjoys his doctor checkups a little too much. Most of the time, though, he just enjoys it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Checkups

Joker thought that he might enjoy his checkups a little bit _too_ much.

The problem - not that Joker called it a problem, mind you, but that seemed to be the appropriate figure of speech - was that he had spent so _much_ of his time in medical facilities of some stripe or another. Half of his childhood had been spent in various hospitals or medical bays, putting some bone or another back together, and it hadn't changed at all when he'd gotten older. If someone wasn't trying to fix something, they were trying some new experimental treatment that promised to help him stand on his own two feet without wondering if his shin bones were about to collapse under their own weight. Most of them hadn't worked, at least until he'd hooked up with Cerberus and had found one that actually had, and were did Cerberus _get_ this tech, anyway? It wasn't perfect - God help him if he should ever actually fall down! - but it was a damn sight better than anything the Alliance had ever tried on him.

He really hadn't had much chance to fool around with anybody else, either. And that was only partially because of the whole brittle-bone thing, although that did contribute; he did know how careful he had to be, and not every girl was willing to be that careful with him, and if they were going to be that way then that was fine with him, thank you, he'd find somebody else who gave a damn. Part of it had been the same reason he'd gotten stuck with his nickname; he'd been too busy learning to fly a ship better than anyone else in his class to spend much time chasing girls, or letting girls chase him. And then, once he'd finished with that, he'd been too busy actually flying, or moving around from ship to ship because some commanding officer was being a dick. He'd gotten some action, and he knew a bit about how sex worked thanks to his extensive collection of, ah, _educational videos,_ but he just hadn't had the chance to do as much as he'd liked. Maybe that was why he reacted the way he did to doctor visits.

It didn't help that almost every female nurse or doctor that had taken care of him had been very attractive - and by a happy coincidence that Joker had thought was very improbable but hadn't been inclined to complain about, they had mostly been female. Sometimes, he wondered if he had found them attractive because they had happened to be his doctors or nurses; he really couldn't tell. But he didn't want to argue over semantics anyway. He just wanted to enjoy this, damn it.

Doctor Chakwas hadn't been an exception to the rule, either. Sure, she was older than he was by a few years - well, okay, a few decades. So what? Joker sure as hell wouldn't have known it from looking at her, as long as he didn't look too closely at her hair. And she knew exactly what she was doing; after some of the doctors he'd had, he could tell.

He was always hard as a fucking pipe when she examined him, and if there was any disapproval for that in her manner, he could never see it. She was so professional, so careful. And her hands - oh, boy. her hands. The way they moved over his body in those blue gloves as she examined her was amazing. (Why the hell were they still blue, anyway?) She knew what she was doing - she was a good doctor, a really good doctor. And he loved it. A lot. That was part of it, he thought. It was that they knew what they were doing, and he had always respected people who knew what they were doing. Why else would he have worked so hard?

He always went back to his bunk after they were finished with his checkups, instead of straight back to his post. Auto-piloting would take care of things for a while, he thought; for all of the trouble that EDI had caused him, he knew she could handle the ship well enough when nothing really crazy was going on.

He had a few things of his own to take care of. He owed some of his most interesting fantasies to medical professionals, after all.


End file.
